The variety of instrumentation and the rare unorthodox entry provide some balance and relief to what would otherwise be a relentlessly bleak affair.

Lady Parts is a fun, slightly chaotic album that captures the creative spirit of golden age rap, updated for the damaged attention span of a generation raised on social media.

As a whole, Fixion is a logical progression for Trentemøller, whose music seems to cinematically expand and contract while remaining true to his chosen bailiwick.

Fans needn't worry that the group's vitality has faded, however. If anything, it takes advantage of a broader palette as Cymbals Eat Guitars continue to dip into more styles without losing their warped, crunchy center.

The duo's sad, passionate vocals readily recall peak-era Depeche Mode, but the instrumentation is much more organic, and the production is far more atmospheric and multi-layered, even verging on hallucinatory at times.

With 15 tracks totaling over 70 minutes, including a 17-minute closer, Mystère's ambition will challenge the ears and endurance of some. Having said that, the album is well sequenced, alternating lighter and heavier tracks, and the whole presentation has that enviable je ne sais quoi--c'est cool.

On the whole, while its more serious tone may disappoint some fans of Half the City, Sea of Noise's performances are just as tight and as passionate, and even more impressive in their maturity and scope.

Even if AIM is more scattered than her finest work, at its best it plays like a scrapbook that pieces together over a decade's worth of sounds and issues.

Townsend has set such an impossibly high standard and this is another excellent entry in a catalog brimming with them. That said, it extends the boundaries explored on Sky Blue, and delivers--in full--on the promise it presented.

It couldn't be more dystopian. It's also a completely exhilarating thrill ride, and highly recommended for fans of other bass-heavy sound bombers such as Amnesia Scanner and Brood Ma.

The paucity of any full-on rockers may drive some listeners back to the group's more propulsive, earlier works, but the sullen, sweet, and soulful Away rewards a patient ear.

Even by Cave's dour standards, Skeleton Tree is a tough listen, but it's also a powerful and revealing one, and a singular work from a one-of-a-kind artist.

Wild World proves that Bastille can build on their success with style. They're the kind of band that sounds better as they get bigger, and their thoughtful lyrics, jaunty melodies, and huge choruses could fill a Coldplay-shaped hole in listeners' hearts.

Decades later, it's still thrilling to hear the band and the crowd feed off the excitement of the other.

The balance between these quiet, thoughtful songs, the needle-bouncing rockers, and the jumping Monkees-ish pop of tracks like "Stick Your Hand Up if You're Louche" makes for a thrill ride of an album, and a better example of modern guitar pop than Cosmonaut is pretty hard to find no matter where one might look.

Goodbye to Language is a powerful, intoxicating album and one of Lanois' best works in at least a decade.

It's one full of warmth and engaging words and melodies, though, all guided by a voice that alone would prompt repeat listens.

If Soundwalk Collective's music is often lovely but understated, Patti Smith's vocals give Killer Road the pale fire that makes it come alive; she never sounds like Nico, but she ably brings forth the voice of a poet facing her final crisis, and Smith understands that just well enough to communicate it to the audience.

Many of the songs are free of artifice, boiled down to voice and guitar or left nearly naked to let the emotional impact of the melodies and words cut more deeply.

While in the process of embracing more electronics they lose a bit of their organic warmth, particularly compared to their debut, Local Natives hang on to a significant amount of their quirkiness and rhythmic flair.

Cosmetic is a strong step forward for Nots that builds on their strengths and gives their weirdness some new and interesting places to go.

What gives KIN its weight is Tunstall's craft. Invisible Empire/Crescent Moon proved that she could turn inward and be gripping but by turning that aesthetic inside out—this is an album about embracing the outside world--she's every bit as compelling.

What impresses is the consistency. Acoustic Recordings 1998-2016 not only is a strong set of songs but it makes it plain that White has been mining the same territory, finding something new within it for nearly two decades.

The album might not stand with their all-time best work, like Seamonsters or Watusi, but it's hard to deny the brilliance of a band that, so late in its career, can crank out an album as passionate, hook-filled, and flat-out fiery as this. That's the true surprise of Going, Going....

Here is a ruminative, inward-looking album of folk-inflected beauty.

Schmilco is clearly music for autumn, meant for cool nights, crunching through the leaves, and the occasional dark night of the soul. And it speaks volumes about Wilco that they could make two albums so different within such a short space of time, and both times giving us music that sounds like no one else.

The record captures Dwyer and the group at their peak powers, and while maybe it's not as good as seeing the band on-stage, where Dwyer's gleefully wild antics take it right to the edge of being a spectacle, it's pretty spectacular.

They've always existed in their own space, and Trouble is yet another fine example of their fascinating art.

Young Thug presents his best case for inclusion in the pantheon of hip-hop influencers with JEFFERY, a release as inspired as it is inspiring.

A dark, turbulent, and welcome entry in Walker's catalog.

Coomes knows he's not for everyone, and that lack of self-consciousness is one of the album's biggest strengths, but listeners with short attention spans and a low tolerance for eccentricity might want to stick with a more commercial brand of sonic weirdness.

This may be Cline's quietest recording, but it is one of his finest.

It's chock-full seductive, attractive melodies and sweet singing, but its lyrics are searing enough in their emotional and spiritual honesty, that they cut to the bone. Great.

How to Be a Human Being's sense of wonder and joie de vivre feels as instructive to Glass Animals as their listeners, and their willingness to try anything results in some truly great moments.

Even if Amnesty lacks some of the intensity of Crystal Castles' earlier work, it accomplishes the tricky task of providing common ground and a fresh start.

Some of the album's more delicate tracks still feel a little formless, and there are a lot of other bands mining similar musical territory, but The Hanging Valley's best moments suggest Cold Pumas are just tapping into their potential.

Worship the Sun was pretty great garage rock revivalism filtered through a gently psychedelic filter; Calico Review might be even better.

Devastating yet optimistic, Splendor & Misery is a stunning leap forward for clipping., and one of the most impressive albums of the year.

As a whole, Home Wrecking Years is worth a number of complete spins to let it decant and work its magic.

It's a densely packed power lunch proving that Furman might be brimming over with enough good ideas to warrant an EP every couple of months.

Of Monkees & Men is above all a Scott McCaughey album. Even the most playful songs are deeply personal, leaving no doubt about how much the Monkees meant to him in 1966 as well as 2015.

Exodus of Venus is an achievement both redemptive and transformative.

Yes, the references are abundant--in an homage, they're supposed to be. Wobble employs them with a curator's taste; his skill as a bandleader creates space for disparate tongues to communicate before evolving into a different musical language--his own. Everything Is NoThing is a monster.

In its own claustrophobic, expansive, debauched, and sardonic way, 25 25 proves that less truly is more for Factory Floor.

On the whole, it's an engaging debut with memorable tunes that should be tried on by fans of any of the above-mentioned bands or melodic descendants of post-punk and Brit-pop.

The elements that are new here play out like a means to an end for a songwriter with a tale to tell, one chock-full of raw emotions. The songs stand just fine on their own, too, out of context.

Brettin tries a lot harder to sound weird on Skiptracing than he did on Timeline, and the result is a more vivid album.

Well over a decade after the release of Eluvium's brilliant 2003 debut, Lambent Material, Cooper continues to sound inspired and inventive.

As it is, it's a bit of a confused mess that needs some serious editing.

Katy Goodman and Greta Morgan have made an album that's often beautiful and marvelously crafted with Take It, It's Yours, but past the surfaces, it's often hard to tell what it means and why they made it in the first place.

Motion Graphics is a highly intriguing album of warped bitstream pop.

This offers more of the detailed scenes only Ocean can script, as well as some stray sly quotables. Ultimately, it's a smartly ordered patchwork of mostly secondary material.

An undoubtedly reactive work, this is undiluted and progressive nonetheless.

On Stay Gold, Walker falls into the latter camp, but if these songs lack a certain spontaneity, the craft is strong and Walker seems so eager to sound like a rock star that you just might mistake him for the real thing.

It's a welcome return, as is Glory as a whole: it feels as fun and frivolous as her earliest music while retaining the freshness of her best mature work.

The talent and vision of these artists makes this a surprisingly powerful and impressive work, and is a testament to the fact both the Mekons and Robbie Fulks need to record more often. When they do, the results are never ordinary, and neither disappoints.

Those who don't process the lyrics will be missing a lauded part of the McCombs experience, Mangy Love, arguably more than ever, works as a musical expression alone, mixing the sometimes caustic lyrics and roguish indie touches with an overriding smooth '70s veneer. For those who take it all in, the album engages both the intellectual and aural pleasure centers.

The whole album is pretty good, sometimes even really good. The Parrots may not be doing anything new or even close to it, but they give the corpse of garage rock a good kicking and that's a pretty cool.

While Andrews may lack the late singer/songwriter's [Jeff Buckley's] angelic pipes, he shares his knack for making the darkness in all of us feel both hopeless and sexy.

Anything But Words is a stellar and truly collaborative endeavor between two creative energies, the result of an organic songwriting process that is anything but thrown together.

Lots of people are making music like this in 2016, but very few are making it this impressively.

It's not uncommon for these songs to bloom into something celebratory during their second half, such as on the rippling, shimmering "Wandering Still." Between Waves is easily the strongest, most inspired Album Leaf release in at least a decade.

Slow Club's metamorphosis feels organic and, more importantly, embraced: this is their record, and the sound you're hearing is Slow Club overcoming their struggles.

Somewhere Else should make a point of giving Real a listen--at her best, she's quite simply as good and as brave a singer and songwriter as anyone working today, and Real finds her at the top of her game.

Alternating between bro country that's just past its sell-by date, summertime party tunes so breezy they get silly, and a heavy dose of southern rock, the Cadillac Three demonstrate versatility but they also seem scattered, as if they're scrambling for an audience.

[Jocie Adams'] musical eclecticism gives Arc Iris a leg up as they vanquish trendiness in favor of free-flowing exploration.

Similarly, the loping "Occupational Hazard" and the militaristically epic "Dionysus" have a kinetic flow that is, as with all of Furnaces, both literate and cinematic.

As per usual, it's Hannigan's otherworldly voice that provides the anchor, effortlessly shifting from smoky lows to crystalline highs like a precision sports car on a twisty mountain test drive.

On the whole, while the album lacks a certain distinctiveness (Lauber's vocals mostly blend, too), there's strength in its solid core and easygoing vibe.

Vacancy charts a tumultuous journey through Raneri's relatable struggles, providing a kindred spirit and mouthpiece for anyone who has ever been burned by love.

While this is easily Horseback's most "laid-back" effort, it's also the one with the most going on musically. It's impossible to pin it all down; simply surrender, let it have its way. You won't regret it.

Mausoleum is a rare recording in that its appeal is vast.

There are a few standouts strewn throughout like "Jump the Gun," "So Tired," and "Laura," but mostly it's the kind of long-player that works best blaring in its entirety from the speakers of a sun-roasted beach cruiser dashboard on the way to someplace fun.

This sounds like an album Parton could have made in the mid-'70s, before she made her bid to become a cross-genre superstar, and for fans who want to hear "the Real Dolly," Pure & Simple will hit the spot like a glass of iced tea on August afternoon.

Animal Races comes a bit late in the season to be the smart indie pop album of the summer, but if you want to conjure the mood of a beautiful day in a warm California town, the Cool Ghouls are just the band to do it.

Alice Bag isn't a belated victory lap from a veteran of the punk rock wars, it's a diverse and deeply satisfying album from an artist who is finally getting a chance to live up to her great potential, and here she isn't missing a trick.

It's rare that someone has an idea this good and unique in the first place, double rare when someone can keep going back to that same idea and find new ways to express it. In that regard, Sweatbox Dynasty is another oddball triumph for a one-of-a-kind artist.

Despite his growing confidence and excellent production and arrangements, the singing and lyric writing still need work. This is a snapshot of where he is at the moment. It's a solid effort even with its flaws.

On the whole, the music on A Place Called Bad makes a strong case that the Scientists were one of the '80s best bands, especially during their swamp noise years. They had the look, they had the songs, they had the sound, and everything they did burned with the white hot fire that only the very best groups are able to harness.

Callus is the most challenging, confrontational Gonjasufi record yet, and it's also his most daring work.

The sparser songs here have everything they need, however, and that's the album's most impressive feat, even topping memorable melodies: a feeling of stability in the territory of loss.

Hotter singles make their debut a better buy, but for a group pegged as a one-hit wonder early on, SremmLife 2 dispels that myth with style.

Curious, ramshackle, and unapologetically rough around the edges, the two-disc, 24-track set is more sprawling than it is ambitious, but like everything else that the enigmatic Richard Davies (Moles, Cardinal, Cosmos) lays his hands on, the results are, more often than not, mesmerizing.

While Vulnicura Live may not be the most fun of Björk's concert albums, its powerful performances still make it a joy for fans to hear.

Way Down in the Jungle Room includes the material from From Elvis Presley Boulevard, Memphis, Tennessee and Moody Blue, and a second disc of outtakes and alternate versions to create the definitive document of this often overlooked period in Presley's career.

There is a wide range of ideas at work on Home of the Strange, which makes for a satisfying, engaging listen.

Fishing Blues isn't so much an indie version of The Heist as it is a more satisfied and slow version of Southsiders. Check that one first, then come back here for a relaxed alternative.

On the whole, though dedicated dream pop fans may be disappointed in the adjustment to the band's sound, Episodic's energy and lush melodicism should hook its share of ears with what are, style preferences aside, solid songs.

Ultimately, while some fans may miss Beaty Heart's previous bent toward tropical indie rock jams, it's difficult to imagine anyone not swooning over the focused, nuanced pop craftsmanship.

The lack of variation creates a series of lovely, sad, but blurry episodes in an extended work rather than strong individual tracks. That said, this is a marked return to form for the Pineapple Thief; it delivers back to fans a sound most have been missing for years.

Dey's music clearly isn't going to resonate with everyone, but it's unquestionable that she has a unique vision, and Flood Network is a restlessly inventive album.

With Mutilator, and now this album, the band is firing on all cylinders and then some, making psych-prog-metal-punk jams for the ages.

Not every album has to bash listeners over the head with wild ideas and massive sounds; sometimes it's enough to provide a warm hug or a tender word, and Boys Forever does a fine job providing both.

Overall, Blossoms is a strong debut that distills the best of the quintet's diverse influences into a catchy amalgam that opts to shoot for the mainstream rather than stick to the same old sound.

The album is clearly the product of the artist's singular vision rather than anything created with commercial expectations, and while certain listeners might find it indulgent or amateur-sounding, give it a chance and it might prove to be a rewarding, amusing listen.

Though Innocence Reaches is more than a bit disjointed, offering a mix of styles previously explored and newly absorbed, it's an up-tempo pleaser with songs that promise to be handpicked fan favorites--if with little consensus.

It's another extremely strong effort for McKenna, whose growing catalog is already known for its quality.

Usually the album is quietly roiling, sometimes drifting toward the meditative (as on the otherwise profane "Tired as F***"), yet always circling back to fierce, searching spiritual rock.